


We See Different Things

by static_abyss



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F, Femslash February, Near Future, Power Dynamics, Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She tells herself that she's only thinking about Moriarty so much because Moriarty's new-found fascination with Joan makes Joan uncomfortable, even if Joan gives nothing away. There should be something flattering in being the sole focus of one person, but Joan feels trapped, as though she's a bee in a glass case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We See Different Things

**Author's Note:**

> My obsession with Joan Watson and Moriarty is about the size of Moriarty's obsession with Joan Watson, so this fic happened. 
> 
> Fills the "power dynamics" space on my [trope_bingo](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) card.

Joan tells herself that Moriarty is fascinating because she's what would happen if Sherlock had gone into crime. She tells herself that she's interested in a purely scientific way, because she wants to understand Moriarty the way she think she's come to understand Sherlock. 

Knowing that Moriarty is a mother doesn't throw Joan off the way it does Sherlock. Joan knows that there's one thing to be a mother, and another entirely to be motherly. She doesn't think for a second that Moriarty loves her daughter, not the way Joan's mother loves her. Moriarty sees property. When she looks at that little girl, Moriarty knows she's expected to protect the child, to make sure that the child is safe and cared for. These are things, Joan thinks Moriarty knows, the same way that Joan knows the color blue is blue.

But just because Moriarty takes care of her daughter doesn't mean she understands love. Moriarty might think she feels it, but Joan knows Moriarty wasn't made to love the way most people do. Moriarty was made to break people apart like puzzles, to examine them, and understand them. She's like Sherlock in that way, except that Sherlock has come to understand people.

Moriarty neither wants to, nor cares to, understand people. It's why Joan beat her, because Joan saw the way Moriarty looked at Sherlock, as though he puzzled her even though she had him figured out. Joan understood that Moriarty thought she was in love with Sherlock, and she might be as far as Joan knows. Perhaps torturing Sherlock is the only way Moriarty knows how to love. 

But Joan doubts it, because Moriarty gave her daughter away to competent parents.

These are the thoughts that Joan finds herself with at three in the morning. She tells herself that she's only thinking about Moriarty so much because Moriarty's new-found fascination with Joan makes Joan uncomfortable, even if Joan gives nothing away. There should be something flattering in being the sole focus of one person, but Joan feels trapped, as though she's a bee in a glass case.

-

Joan dates because her friends encourage her, tell her that it's important to have a social life outside of Sherlock. Joan dates because she likes the company of interesting people, people who make her question the way she thinks. She likes people like Sherlock, who push her to be someone better. 

It takes her a while, of course, to realize that what she's looking for in these men is friendship.

Once she does though, Joan stops dating. She chooses to focus on going through Sherlock's old case files, on solving cases, and helping people. She stills goes out once in a while, much to Sherlock's constant amusement. Joan doesn't bring up the fact that he dated a serial killer, though they both know it's what she means when she tells him her social life is none of his business. 

She has dinner with interesting guys, some of whom stay her friend. But her life narrows down to solving cases with Sherlock, to helping Detective Bell as best she can. It comes down to nights lying on her bed, and wondering whether Moriarty was right, whether their system is so corrupt that she'll go free.

-

On April 2nd, 2014, Moriarty goes free.

The letters start coming a month later.

-

Joan throws the first one in the trash, because she's angry, furious that after everything, Moriarty is just going to walk. She doesn't tell Sherlock about the letters, doesn't have to. He sees the envelope that Joan leaves on their dining room table.

"Ignore them," he tells her. "She'll get bored eventually."

"I wonder if it isn't better to answer her," Joan says. "If I don't, she's going to keep trying."

Sherlock eyes her, his face unreadable. Joan stares back, shifts onto her left foot. "I thought we talked about making deductions about our friends," she says.

Sherlock frowns. He's been doing that a lot lately, Joan thinks.

"I know that look, Watson," Sherlock says. "And I want you to know that the path you are considering is not in your best interest. Moriarty is curious and elusive. She will do her best to trap you without you ever knowing you're trapped."

Joan says nothing as she takes in the dining room table. There are unopened bills on the table next to Sherlock's laptop, a half-empty bottle of mineral water next to a glass. Joan takes a seat, and waits for Sherlock to sit across from her before she speaks.

"She told me she wanted to figure me out. That once she did, she'd move on," Joan says. She doesn't mention how Moriarty had been so sure that Sherlock, too, would move on.

"She won't figure you out." 

"How do you know?"

"Because," Sherlock says. "I've haven't done it yet."

-

Joan doesn't open the second or third letter that comes addressed to Dr. Joan Watson. After that, there's silence for a few weeks. There are no more letters, none for Sherlock either. She and Sherlock go back to solving cases, to celebrating Detective Bell's amazing recovery. Joan even starts dating Jerry again, and Sherlock goes back to rolling his eyes at her when she goes out. 

Things are settling in nicely, three months after Moriarty is let go. Which is, of course, why that's when the phone calls start.

-

Joan doesn't usually pick up phone calls from weird numbers, but she's in a rush to meet Sherlock at a crime scene that she doesn't even look at her phone. She just assumes it's Sherlock calling to see what's taking her so long.

"I'm on my way," she says, as she rushes out of the F train near Prospect Park. "The trains got held up."

"Joan Watson," the voice at the other end of the line says. 

Joan stops mid-walk, her eyes scanning the streets as though she's going to find Moriarty across the street with a cell phone in her hands. She pulls the phone away from her ear to look at the unfamiliar number. She knows that if she were to look up the number, it'd lead back to a burner phone.

"What do you want?" Joan asks, turning on the spot to look into the park.

There's a black haired woman pushing two blond children in a stroller along the park path closest to Joan. Further down the street are two men holding hands and laughing. No one, as far as Joan can see, is a woman with blonde hair.

"You've been ignoring my letters," Moriarty says. "Why is that?"

Joan is not surprised to hear the genuine curiosity in Moriarty's tone, but she's surprised that Moriarty is making it so obvious, as though she doesn't want to hide from Joan. It sets Joan on edge, and she takes a deep breath in order to start walking again. She passes fourteenth street, heads along the park to thirteenth. 

"I didn't really want to talk to you," Joan says, finally. 

"Yet, here we are," Moriarty says, amusement in her tone this time.

"Yes," Joan says. "Because you called me."

"And you're the one who won't hang up."

So Joan does.

-

Joan understands what the phone calls are. She knows Moriarty is a lot like Sherlock when it comes to solving puzzles, to figuring out things that catch their interest. The part Joan can't reconcile, the part that makes her want to hide as far away from Moriarty as possible, is that to Moriarty, Joan is just a thing. She's an interesting fact that doesn't make sense in the world Moriarty has set up for herself. 

The phone calls and the messages that Joan doesn't listen to are just Moriarty's way of trying to make Joan fit into Moriarty's narrow world. The problem is that for whatever reason, Joan doesn't fit. Which only serves to make Moriarty want to _make_ Joan fit all the more. And Joan knows it can go bad, knows that Moriarty is ruthless in getting what she wants. 

Joan doesn't want to be the reason Sherlock gets hurt. She doesn't want to get dragged into the same game Sherlock was dragged into. Joan wants Moriarty to stay away, but she doesn't know how to make it happen. Joan has no idea how to make herself even more transparent than she is. Joan knows it's not she who has the unsolvable problem; it's Moriarty who can't understand what everyone else can see: that Joan cares about people, that she believes people can be good, that murderers are exceptions not norms.

It's so simple to Joan, to her brother, and parents. Even Sherlock gets it more than he thinks he does. But Joan knows Moriarty, and she understands that in order for Moriarty to understand Joan, she'd have to learn to care, and that's not going to happen. Joan has looked into Moriarty's eyes, into the eyes of addicts who have yet to hit rock bottom. Joan knows a lost cause when she sees one. 

-

It's Joan's old dates, because, _of course_ it is. 

Jerry is the first one of the men that Joan has seen in the last six month that ends up at the hospital. He has food poisoning, and Joan doesn't think anything of it even though it means they won't have their date that night.

When the phone calls stop coming in though, Joan knows it's not a coincidence. 

Joan's first instinct is to tell Sherlock, and ask for his help in figuring out what Moriarty wants. The thing is, Joan knows what Moriarty wants. She wants Joan to pick up her cell phone and talk to her, and Joan would if it meant no one else ended up at the hospital. But Moriarty doesn't call her back, and Joan doesn't have the number saved into her phone.

It gives Moriarty all the power, leaves Joan defenseless and angry. She doesn't like the idea of other people getting hurt just because Moriarty wants to teach Joan a lesson. It means there's nothing Joan can do when Detective Bell ends up at the hospital with stinging pains down his back and no idea why. 

He gets better, and Joan gets the message. 

Next time, she should just answer the calls.

-

Joan's phone rings two days later.

She looks down at the unfamiliar number. Her fingers are already moving to unlock her phone screen when she stops herself. She can picture Moriarty standing besides the painting of Joan, waiting for Joan to pick up the phone. It gives Joan a wild satisfaction to know that she's making Moriarty wait.

Joan's thought about Moriarty, about the poisonings, and the passive aggressive methods of telling Joan she's displeased with her. Moriarty hasn't killed anyone. 

It's what draws Joan's attention, what gives her the advantage again. Moriarty won't kill anyone, and though Joan has an idea as to why, she'd rather not think about it. Having Moriarty this far into her personal life is disconcerting enough as it is. Joan does not need to think about what reasons Moriarty may have for targeting what, from the outside, seem like Joan's exes.

Joan lets the phone go to voicemail, waits, but Moriarty doesn't leave a message this time. There are no more poisonings, no more passive aggressive threats. Not that Joan expected there to be any. It's not Moriarty's style to repeat herself.

-

Two days after Joan ignores Moriarty's phone call, she gets a visit.

Joan comes in from her afternoon jog around the neighborhood to find the door to the brownstone unlocked. Sherlock is out visiting Detective Bell, so Joan knows it can't be him inside the house. She is about to walk away and phone the police when she notices the blue jacket on the doorknob of the inside glass door. It's the jacket Moriarty was wearing the first time they met.

Joan sends a quick text to Sherlock anyway. 

**Moriarty at home.**

She feels the vibration that lets her know Sherlock's seen her text. Joan silences her phone, slips it into her pocket, and goes inside. 

It's the first time she's seen Moriarty in person in about eight months. She looks just as vibrant as she always does, her perpetual smirk in place. Joan notices that she's dressed up, gone for a skirt and dress shirt. It would be amusing to Joan how Moriarty always seems to dress up for her, if Moriarty weren't sitting in the living room couch as though she belongs there, as though she has the right to take up space in Joan's life.

"You hurt my friends," Joan says by way of greeting. 

Moriarty shrugs, crosses her legs on the couch. Her blonde hair curls over her left shoulder, her eyes focused on Joan's face. She looks at ease in Joan's home, but her head is tilted towards the door, her upper body tensed in case she needs to move. 

"You weren't returning my calls," she says, finally. "And besides, your _boyfriends_ are fine."

"Why?" Joan asks, because she came in to get answers, to understand. "Killing never seemed to bother you before, why stop now?"

"Are you asking me to kill your friends, Joannie?" 

Joan doesn't even blink at the use of her nickname. She can see Moriarty waiting for a reaction, but Joan is too angry to give her what she wants. They stare at each other, neither wanting to give in first. 

"I'm assuming you called Sherlock," Moriarty says at last. 

"And the entire NYPD," Joan agrees. "So whatever it is you came here to tell me, just get on with it."

"You're the one who wants answers, Joan. If they catch me, you won't get any."

Joan crosses her arms, and raises an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to talk."

"True," Moriarty agrees, easing back onto the couch. "I'm really only here, because it's so very rude to promise something and then go back on your promise. I thought better of you, Joan."

"Well you thought wrong," Joan says. "Now if you have nothing more to say, get out of my house."

"I could have hurt them," Moriarty says, ignoring Joan in favor of studying the book on the history of cigarettes that Joan had left on the couch earlier that day. "But I didn't."

Joan waits for more, but Moriarty just puts the book down. She turns cold, calculating eyes on Joan. 

"You'll pick up the phone next time," Moriarty says, standing and smoothing out her skirt.

"And why is that exactly?" Joan asks.

Moriarty smiles as she heads for the front door. "Because," she says, unhooking her jacket off the doorknob. "The reason I didn't kill any of them is you. You would have hated me more than you do already if I'd harmed your friends, and I don't want that, Joan. I want you to let me in."

And with that, Moriarty is out the door. 

 

When Sherlock comes in minutes later, Joan is still there, staring at the place where Moriarty disappeared.

-

" _She'll trap you_ ," Sherlock had said. " _And you won't even know you're trapped_."

But he's wrong, Joan thinks, as her phone starts ringing. The number on Joan's screen is familiar even if there's no name attached to it. Sherlock had said that Joan wouldn't know she was trapped, but Joan knows.

She is well aware of it even as she listens to Moriarty's voice over the line. The phone conversation is almost eerily normal. Moriarty asks after Sherlock, after Detective Bell. She asks Joan what her favorite book is, whether she prefers the snow or spring sunshine. 

Joan answers the questions she feels like answering, is silent when she needs to be. She never says no to Moriarty, never mentions whether a question is offensive or not, though Moriarty asks. Joan has given her this phone call. She won't give Moriarty much more than that.

"It was a pleasure, Joan," Moriarty says, half an hour later. "I did so very much enjoy our conversation. Did you?"

"Not really," Joan answers.

Joan can almost see the smirk on Moriarty's face at her words. "Will you pick up your phone next time I call?" Moriarty asks.

"I don't know," Joan says, truthfully.

"I admire your honesty," Moriarty says. "Very well. I won't press you for answers now. I shall call another day, and we shall see."

Joan doesn't say anything, but she knows what her silence will mean to Moriarty. This isn't Joan saying no, and Moriarty will latch onto that. It puts Moriarty in Joan's hands, because Moriarty _will_ call just to see if Joan will answer. And whatever Joan chooses to do will either proof or disproof what Moriarty thinks of Joan. It gives Joan the opportunity to recreate herself, to give Moriarty a taste of what she's made others feel. 

If Moriarty wants a puzzle, then Joan will give her a puzzle.

-

When Joan ends the call, she saves the number.


End file.
